


Drugged

by BrynTWedge



Series: Under the Influence [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Helpful Greg Lestrade, M/M, Mycroft gets drugged, high mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrynTWedge/pseuds/BrynTWedge
Summary: Mycroft gets hit with a hallucinogenic dart, and goes on a trip before it knocks him out. Greg's there to witness everything... including the sudden declarations of love for him.





	Drugged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lmirandas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmirandas/gifts).



> So I wrote this as just 'letting my brain go', so writing whatever came to mind. As you can see, my brain makes no sense when I let go of the reigns.

_Mycroft felt the sharp sting of the dart in his neck. He panicked, instantly pulling it from his skin and tossing it to the ground._

Oh no, no no no... they can't... Gregory is almost here, stay awake until he has a chance... Oh, oh my this is happening quickly. I hope that I got it out before the full dose hit me.  
And I'm falling down. Darkness seeps into the edges. 

_Mycroft fell to the ground in a heap as Greg rushed towards him. Sherlock managed to tackle the assailant and restrain him._

Everything is fuzzy. This field was empty, so where are the whales? No, I have to get away from the cars before their tentacles poison me with the dictionaries. Wow, it's like swimming through rice... I can't move. Oh, yes I am, over there. Wait, don't leave without me! Hang on, no, that's not right. Focus. I can't hope to bring the sun lotion if I can't even find the pebble. 

_"Mycroft? Can you hear me?"_

What's that? There's a shadow. No, Gregory! The most attractive of dragons. I would slide down the toy-car track to you, if only you greeted me with cream. Oh how lovely you are, with your folders. Oh, he's picking me up. No need, my dearest, as I have the lightning already and so can float fine. How I love thee, Gregory. Be mine, and we shall paint street lamps together. 

_"What's wrong with him?"_  
_"Jeffries shot him with some kind of hallucinogenic dart. No doubt he intended to knock my dear brother out, but his incompetence doesn't stop at theft."  
_ _"Does he need to go to the hospital?"_

Why so many questions? They fill the air with lead, and that stuff's poisonous to breathe. Wait! Sherlock! I must inform the Queen... but he hasn't enough potatoes. I can't bring him in those shoes. 

_"What's he talking about? Sherlock, I'm worried."  
_ _"It should be temporary, Lestrade. We should get him into a more private location, however."_

Oh and the world is moving. I should let the Americans know. Mmm, Gregory's strong arms around me. Exquisite. I could fall asleep to the symphony of his chocolate. Food! I am hungry! I wonder if the burger stand is here so I may tip my hat. Zucchini flowers are better. 

_Greg managed to carry Mycroft to the car, with the aid of Sherlock, despite the elder Holmes' wriggling and babbling of nonsense. He would be incredibly amused, if he weren't concerned for his health and had Mycroft not been proclaiming love to him. It was hard enough to keep his unrequited feelings to himself without the man himself admitting to loving him in a drug-addled state._

This is soft... a veritable cloud for my body. Be jealous, chariot, as I have the superior edge. The world revolves around that face, the universe exists only in those eyes. 

_Mycroft pulled Greg down and kissed him deeply and passionately. Greg was too surprised to do anything. He knew he would be taking advantage to respond, but it was everything he'd ever dreamed of and found himself unable to stop it._

Warm, like fire. Yes that bakery should have burned. Charcoal is quite good for the stomach. The caves know this, already. And Sherlock has returned! I see he has forgotten my llama, _again_. 

_"Is there any water here? We need to keep him hydrated, if he can even swallow in this state. I still think we should get a doctor, at least."_  
"I'll get John, he's not far away. And Lestrade... about his, er, behaviour..."  
_"I know, Sherlock, it's fine. He's not himself."_

Then who am I, Gregory? A pilot, certainly. And shall be king of all cabbages, and rule that none shall cross bridges. No, go away, buzzing cow. Where did these lights come from, anyway? The rainbow is surely missing them. 

_"Yes. Let me just tell you... if he remembers, he will undoubtedly try pretend it meant nothing. Perhaps even pull away from you. I ... the thing is, you can't tell him I told you, but... he's being honest."_  
_"What?"  
_ _"Impulsive, yes; insane, certainly; but he is being honest regarding his... affections... towards you. I promised to say nothing to you but as he's now told you I feel released from my covenant and can inform you that my brother is astonishingly, and infuriatingly, besotted with you. Please rectify this ridiculous pining situation immediately so I may be free from witnessing it."_

Heavy. Everything's getting heavy. The hippo isn't resting on me, so it must be the twigs. Is it night? No, I need my energy... don't take it, pirate, I have to see where this is going. Why are there deer inmy car? Don't they know they need a permit?

_"Mycroft? Sherlock, he's losing consciousness. When's John getting here?"_

Darkness and colours and electricity. Purple clashes with the yellows. Sounds are too sharp. Thundering, hammers hitting my ribs... it hurts. Aches. I don't think I ordered a python. Gregory, I need you to hold me. I don't like the smells tying me up. It's all fluid in my head. Washing away into the nothingness. 

 

* * *

 

Mycroft woke in bed. Had it all been just a crazy nightmare of some kind? He looked over to the curtains spilling light into the room and saw the figure of Greg Lestrade sitting there, dozing. His heart skipped. Greg, in his bedroom?

"Oh! Mycroft! You look... are you with me?"

"With you? Was I not before hand?"

"You... you got hit with some drugs, and things got a bit weird after that."

"I-I can't seem to recall much," Mycroft groaned as he sat up. He was doing his best to control his reaction to Greg's presence so close and... intimate. 

"That's fine. You weren't making sense for most of it. I don't think you noticed you were mumbling random words and phrases. But there, uh, there was one thing that I'd like to talk to you about."

"Alright," Mycroft said hesitantly, eyeing Greg as he came closer and sat on the bed beside him. 

"Before you passed out, you... you were saying some things. About me. Specifically regarding how, er, how you felt about me. Then you, um, kissed me."

"I was drugged, I assure you, Insp-"

"Sherlock already told me you were being honest," Greg interrupted. Mycroft flushed red. "Before you start ranting how your brother was lying, or breaking your trust, or trying some sick joke... I do too. Feel that way about you, that is. I kept it to myself, thinking if you knew how hard I'd fallen for you that you'd hate me and not talk to me. I know relationships and stuff aren't really your thing. But since it seems we were both hiding that away... well, I dunno, if maybe you want to give it a shot?"

Mycroft stared in shock. Was this still part of the hallucination? He could remember seeing octopi flying about drawing quavers in the air with rubber ducks, but somehow this seemed more surreal. Gregory reciprocated his feelings? And he wanted to try... what? A relationship? 

"Are... are you asking me out on a date, Gregory?"

"Yeah, I guess I am. And more, if you're up for it."

"Yes," Mycroft mumbled quietly, timid. Greg's warm and genuine smile put some of his anxiety to rest. 

"You should really thank Sherlock, you know. He told me about you being honest so you couldn't just chalk it up to the drugs. I think he was more fed up with our respective pining than actually wanting either of us to be happy, to be honest, though."

"Perhaps he orchestrated the entire situation for the sole purpose of alleviating his frustrations in having to witness it?" 

Greg shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You can cross out his debt of llama as thanks." Greg grinned slyly, his eyes full of mirth. 

"Oh god..."

"Now, where shall we go for our first date? I'm assuming we'll avoid anything with cabbage, I wouldn't want you to offend your royal subjects by eating them."


End file.
